Whispers and Ice Cream ( Young! Sherlock x Young Reader)
by Pherenice
Summary: As soon as you entered the room which was famous nowadays. John sat there staring at a picture. Inside was a picture of younger Sherlock scowling and you grinning as you tightly hugged him. In the back was a bigger kid with a huge coat and his arm crossed. Which was at least 10 years older than both of the kids in front. A small smile came to your lips as you sat back in place.
1. Ch 1:A Colorful Picture

Warm , and comfy which was the chair you were sitting on. You brushed away your (color hair) off your shoulders and sigh. Sighing was mostly all that was ever done in this house. In your hands which was a book that you had bought before Sherlock died. After his death you couldn't bear to look at it and opening it's soft binding. But of course you didn't want John to know that. So you sat there with a staring into space. Tea brew in a pot which was your favorite. Steam which you could see from your chair, but you did nothing. Across from you was John, his arm popped up to his face. Blood rushed to the skin, and already made marks so there was no point to remove it

"_, could you get that please"

he muttered as he buried his face into his hands. You stare at John with a worried expression but got up to get the tea anyways. Pouring the tea on the white shiny cup made you think about him after his death. John would barely say anything to you since Sherlock died. John was like a big brother to you, and Sherlock was was like that too. They were your friends, no family as you could say it. A sharp pain entered your forearm. A sudden pain made your cup fall to the floor and shatter the floor.

"Damn it" you muttered. As it made a loud sound you were expecting John to run in the room asking what was happen. But silent filled the air which so sudden moves but your breathing. You shook your head as started to pick up the broken pieces.

"He is more broken, than this cup' you mumurmed.

❄❄❄

As soon as you were done you walked out patting your skirt. It was reached all the way to your knees. You realized pants wouldn't work till it slowed down your perfect running skills. Not that you were ever girly anyways. But running and punching people was your job. Not that you weren't smart, you were as smart as Sherlock. Just you were too lazy to think. But of course you could deduce, just to lazy.

As soon as you entered the room which was famous nowadays. John sat there staring at a picture. Inside was a picture of younger Sherlock scowling and you grinning as you tightly hugged him. In the back was a bigger kid with a huge coat and his arm crossed. Which was at least 10 years older than both of the kids in front. A small smile came to your lips as you sat back in place before.

"You know," he started as he scratched his blond soft short hair. "I didn't know that you and Sherlock were friends for this long." he questioned not moving his eyes from the picture.

"But of course, we been friends since we were 10 years old." you remarked setting your legs on the armchair while your back against the other. "Well, were anyways" you lowered your tone enough for you to hear.

"Who was that other kid in the picture?" he asked waving it in the air. You merely smiled and closed your eyes.

"I know this is hard to believe, but that Greg Lestrade." you laughed.


	2. Ch 2:Rich Dumbasses

The sun was slowly falling to sleep and was about to let the moon rise. Along the windows was the moon shining down at 221B Baker Street. You sat in the chair smiling dearly at the warm taste of tea. The soft fabric was comfy as you softy rubbing up against your legs. Of course something was missing from the home that was the favorite talk around the news these days. But nevertheless you waited for John to say something about the picture. He only sat there mesmerized by the picture.

John was eyes wandered back to you and the picture. His hair was messy left unbrushed, but that didn't matter much since his hair was short anyways. He wore a large green jacket that was left unbutton, a plaid green undershirt with a collar that stuck out of the jacket. His pants were gray with and had folds all over from the lack from ironing. "So when was this picture taken?" John asked still not moving his eyes away from the picture. You stayed quiet trying to remember. John eyes widen when he realized what you were doing.

"You don't remember?!" he yelled half yelling half surprised. He was on the edge of his chair which was amusing to you. John didn't usually act like this.'Well it's not that, its just-" you trailed off trying to think. John just carefully let out a sigh and sat right on the chair.

"And here I was hoping for a life story" he muttered and got up to make the tea himself. You twirled your long slender fingers through your (color hair).

"Well you like a life story about a girl who was friends with Sherlock?" you laughed playfully almost dropping your book. A sigh of relief came when you catched it quickly by the binding.

"You know I wouldn't mind at all." he yelled through the kitchen. Suddenly you became quiet and thought about it. A whole talk about your life story,well its not like anything happen around these days. "Let's start from the beginning then shall we?!" You called out laughing.

❄❄❄

Laughing and screaming of children was heard throughout the colorful playground. The afternoon sun made it seem peaceful. Mothers talked about what and what not to do with kids and what not. Swings when back and forth with delighted children. Everyone was happy and minding their own business. But a little 6 year old with a dirty plain dress that reached all the way to her legs was not. She also wore a coat that was as long to dress but was somehow not strolling on the floor that was light brown. Only a small difference in the whole park drove her mad.

On the every high top of the playground was a pole used for sliding down like firemen, you stared at examining it carefully. Sitting down with your knees on the bars ground rubbed down and the rest to the calf of the leg being toppled by the knee to the thigh. Blue paint was chipped off the metal, so most kids hands were surprise there, these kids can't even reach the sink. Dumbasses think the world is all rainbows and butterflies. A disapproving shake came from your head but then when you back towards your studies. Examining is carefully down you realized the pole was crooked. But of course it was crooked enough to fool a child here. God damn, this mostly could've killed someone. Which kinda made you happy, in since that you had a favor for dead bodies. But of course you would keep that to yourself at all times. But of course, your would take it upon yourself to fix it. Checking around your dirty coat for anything only to find a whip? " Well, this was new " you thought. Surely, "I didn't steal this, or maybe I did? Oh who cares free whip!" you sang out not giving any notice to the kid giving you strange stares. The whip was red darkish rubber that was maybe at the very least 65 inches. But somehow, as long as it is you are able to wrap it around your belt like a weapon. But a small sly smirk landed on your lips as your started to think. Thinking was the only thing you did these days.

"Thats it!" you cried loudly with joy and throwing sand into the air. Leaving your sand box you quickly brushed off any the sand on your dress. Your face shined as you raced all the way to the top of the playground pushing little kids along the way. You left one crying as you pushed them into the fake dumb black wheel, but of course you care less if they were bleeding or not. Finally when you got all the way up you carefully started to remember you calculations of the making the pole so perfectly straight that little kids would surely pee their pants. A small faint giggle escaped your red chapped lips. But it was quickly washed away by what was in front of you. Staring down in the abyss of the playground pole, was a child. Squinting down, you realized it was a boy about the same age you. He was leaning against the pole like a dumbass with his back arched back. His hair was curly and was way too clean to be normal. Rich.

"Ugh, damn those rich kids." you muttered banging the bars on the playground with your fist. "Ruining my plans and shit" you half yelled out, but not loud enough for him to hear. Surly you were born in America so you known tons of bad words. But clueless little kids stare at you. It seems as if all you came here is to yell at people. Suddenly you stomped down the playground to talk to this dumbass.

"Wait, wait" John stated as you left your thoughts. John smiled and chuckled before continuing.

"So, you met Sherlock in a playground?" John asked " Seems to very unlikely to me. " he finished and took a small sip of his tea.

"Well, normal parents of course would take there kids to playground if they have no friends you know. And of course Sherlock wouldn't have friends" Your replied simply. Brushing your hair away from and your shoulders. Then tapping your chin trying to pick up where you left off. Finally you opened your mouth indicting to John you would continue.

John was eyes wandered back to you and the picture. His hair was messy left unbrushed, but that didn't matter much since his hair was short anyways. He wore a large green jacket that was left unbutton, a plaid green undershirt with a collar that stuck out of the jacket. His pants were gray with and had folds all over from the lack from ironing. "So when was this picture taken?" John asked still not moving his eyes away from the picture. You stayed quiet trying to remember. John eyes widen when he realized what you were doing.

"You don't remember?!" he yelled half yelling half surprised. He was on the edge of his chair which was amusing to you. John didn't usually act like this.'Well it's not that, its just-" you trailed off trying to think. John just carefully let out a sigh and sat right on the chair.

"And here I was hoping for a life story" he muttered and got up to make the tea himself. You twirled your long slender fingers through your (color hair).

"Well you like a life story about a girl who was friends with Sherlock?" you laughed playfully almost dropping your book. A sigh of relief came when you catched it quickly by the binding.

"You know I wouldn't mind at all." he yelled through the kitchen. Suddenly you became quiet and thought about it. A whole talk about your life story,well its not like anything happen around these days. "Let's start from the beginning then shall we?!" You called out laughing.

Laughing and screaming of children was heard throughout the colorful playground. The afternoon sun made it seem peaceful. Mothers talked about what and what not to do with kids and what not. Swings when back and forth with delighted children. Everyone was happy and minding their own business. But a little 6 year old with a dirty plain dress that reached all the way to her legs was not. She also wore a coat that was as long to dress but was somehow not strolling on the floor that was light brown. Only a small difference in the whole park drove her mad.

On the every high top of the playground was a pole used for sliding down like firemen, you stared at examining it carefully. Sitting down with your knees on the bars ground rubbed down and the rest to the calf of the leg being toppled by the knee to the thigh. Blue paint was chipped off the metal, so most kids hands were surprise there, these kids can't even reach the sink. Dumbasses think the world is all rainbows and butterflies. A disapproving shake came from your head but then when you back towards your studies. Examining is carefully down you realized the pole was crooked. But of course it was crooked enough to fool a child here. God damn, this mostly could've killed someone. Which kinda made you happy, in since that you had a favor for dead bodies. But of course you would keep that to yourself at all times. But of course, your would take it upon yourself to fix it. Checking around your dirty coat for anything only to find a whip? " Well, this was new " you thought. Surely, "I didn't steal this, or maybe I did? Oh who cares free whip!" you sang out not giving any notice to the kid giving you strange stares. The whip was red darkish rubber that was maybe at the very least 65 inches. But somehow, as long as it is you are able to wrap it around your belt like a weapon. But a small sly smirk landed on your lips as your started to think. Thinking was the only thing you did these days.

"Thats it!" you cried loudly with joy and throwing sand into the air. Leaving your sand box you quickly brushed off any the sand on your dress. Your face shined as you raced all the way to the top of the playground pushing little kids along the way. You left one crying as you pushed them into the fake dumb black wheel, but of course you care less if they were bleeding or not. Finally when you got all the way up you carefully started to remember you calculations of the making the pole so perfectly straight that little kids would surely pee their pants. A small faint giggle escaped your red chapped lips. But it was quickly washed away by what was in front of you. Staring down in the abyss of the playground pole, was a child. Squinting down, you realized it was a boy about the same age you. He was leaning against the pole like a dumbass with his back arched back. His hair was curly and was way too clean to be normal. Rich.

"Ugh, damn those rich kids." you muttered banging the bars on the playground with your fist. "Ruining my plans and shit" you half yelled out, but not loud enough for him to hear. Surly you were born in America so you known tons of bad words. But clueless little kids stare at you. It seems as if all you came here is to yell at people. Suddenly you stomped down the playground to talk to this dumbass.

"Wait, wait" John stated as you left your thoughts. John smiled and chuckled before continuing.

"So, you met Sherlock in a playground?" John asked " Seems to very unlikely to me. " he finished and took a small sip of his tea.

"Well, normal parents of course would take there kids to playground if they have no friends you know. And of course Sherlock wouldn't have friends" Your replied simply. Brushing your hair away from and your shoulders. Then tapping your chin trying to pick up where you left off. Finally you opened your mouth indicting to John you would continue.


End file.
